


The Day After Sadie Hawkins

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt checks up on Blaine after the dance. Also, it’s really freaking cold.</p><p>set in canon, Kurt/Blaine plus other canonical pairings from the episode</p><p>episode tag for and spoilers through 4x11 (“Sadie Hawkins”), with no spoilers beyond</p><p>warning for mild references to a past canonical hate crime</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day After Sadie Hawkins

Kurt is almost out in the hallway, coat fastened to his chin and hat snug on his head, before he stops himself with a roll of his eyes and jogs back into his apartment to grab a bottle of water to tuck into his bag. Then he resettles the straps of his rolled mat over his shoulder and heads out for his local weekend yoga class. He’s still not sure how he feels about the instructor, who is too perky by half and better suited to some ‘80s aerobics video than a low-voiced, meditative environment, but the class is close, cheap, and keeps him limber without the threat of Rachel making pointed if admiring comments about his physique when she wanders through the apartment with her coffee.

As soon as he’s out on the sidewalk and has flinched back from the slap in the face that’s the first touch of biting cold morning air, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He’d been able to stop himself from calling last night like a mother hen, but he doesn’t want to wait any longer to talk to Blaine.

Blaine answers on the fourth ring, his voice a little rough like he hasn’t been talking yet this morning. He sounds happy enough, though, and Kurt can tell he didn’t wake him. “Hi, Kurt.”

“Good morning,” Kurt says, and he can’t keep from smiling. It’s such a joy to be able to talk to him so easily again. It’s not simple between them, but it’s better. They’re friends. It’s okay to have the feelings he does, to care about Blaine, to pick up the phone and ask how he is instead of having to glean clues from other people’s comments and text messages.

“You sound like you’re outside,” Blaine says. “Don’t tell me you’re out on the fire escape. My weather app said it’s supposed to be zero there today. You could get frostbite or stick to the metal or something.”

“I’m on my way to yoga,” Kurt tells him. “And I’m appropriately dressed, so I’m not going to get frostbite. Or stick to any metal, for that matter, because I’m not going to lick it. Unlike some other people I know.”

“I was _six_ ,” Blaine mutters with a self-conscious laugh. “And Cooper dared me.”

Smiling, Kurt moves his phone to the other hand so that he can tuck the cold hand into his pocket to warm up. He has gloves on, but the butter-soft leather is beautiful but quite clearly not enough for the weather. He may have to sacrifice fashion for function when he goes out again later. “So how did it go?” he asks.

“My mom came and poured warm water on it to get me free,” Blaine says. “And Cooper didn’t get in trouble, because he said it was a science experiment.”

“I know. I remember the story,” Kurt says. “I meant last night. How was the dance?” It’s weird for him to think of Blaine dressed up, as perfectly handsome as he always is, and spinning around the dance floor with someone who isn’t him, but he doesn’t want it to be weird. It shouldn’t be weird. Besides, this was an important dance for Blaine.

And he went with Tina, so it’s not like Kurt could even be jealous if it was reasonable for him to feel that way, which he knows it most certainly is not.

“Oh,” Blaine says. He clears his throat. “Well, we ran out of snowball cookies an hour in and ended up with a dozen leftover cases of orange soda, so I don’t think the refreshments were planned right, but otherwise I think it went well. Tina did a great job with the decorations, and everybody danced during our songs.”

Kurt glares daggers at a taxi driver, daring him to keep inching forward and hit him as he swiftly crosses the street with the walk signal. “That’s good,” he says, his voice softening, “but I was talking about you.”

“Um.” Blaine clears his throat again and sounds flustered. “Me?”

Kurt doesn’t understand Blaine’s nerves; maybe it’s complicated for them to share confidences again, but they’ve always been so open with each other. He’s not going to let that slip away. “Your first Sadie Hawkins dance made you not want to go to junior prom with me,” Kurt reminds him. “I know this one must have brought back memories.”

“I didn’t not want to go to prom with you, Kurt,” Blaine says more firmly. “I was just... apprehensive after what happened.”

“And that’s why I’m making sure you’re okay after last night,” Kurt tells him. Blaine’s never talked much about what it was like being beaten up for going to his first dance with a boy when he was newly out, but Kurt knows it haunts him, knows it’s shaped him. It’s what sent him to Dalton, and it was a fear he refused to listen to when he transferred to McKinley to be with Kurt last year. It had made him feel hated, frightened, and weak at the very least, and even though the two of them faced Blaine’s demons again and again together going to dances and being openly in love in the intolerant hallways of public school, Kurt knows just how easy it is to remember being that desperately, miserably alone. He carries his own memories, his own demons, his own scars.

There’s a long moment of silence over the phone punctuated by the sounds of traffic and pedestrians all around Kurt as he hurries down the sidewalk in a fruitless attempt to outdistance the cold.

“Thanks,” Blaine breathes out finally. That soft intimacy in his voice is the one Kurt’s been hearing for years, and his fingers tighten around the phone in unconscious, happy reaction to having it back. “Yeah, I’m okay. I thought I wouldn’t be. The second the girls brought up the idea I thought it would all come back to me walking in the door, how badly it had ended, everything it meant... but it was just a dance last night. And I was there with Tina, not with - “ He hesitates for a second, and Kurt doesn’t know if Blaine was going to say his name or his date’s from the first Sadie Hawkins dance. “ - a guy. So that made it different.”

“I’m glad it was all right,” Kurt says, a little flustered by that hesitation but trying not to show it. They’ve both been open about how they feel about each other - on the phone at Thanksgiving, in person at Christmas - how it’s not simply friendship on either side, and he knows that if he could get over the pain Blaine had caused him Blaine would accept him back with open arms, but it’s still awkward that they can’t just be friends or just be more. It would be easier if they could settle into one of those options.

But they can’t yet, and Kurt can’t let it matter, because he cares too much about Blaine to let things get awkward again.

Although it is going to be awkward if something more happens with Adam, because he has no idea how he could possibly talk about it with Blaine and yet has no idea how he _couldn’t_ share the news with his best friend, but that’s a stomach-churning problem for another day. He didn’t call about that.

“Thanks for thinking of me, Kurt,” Blaine says softly. “That means a lot to me.”

Kurt ducks his head against the bitter blast of air and the affection in Blaine’s words. “You’re welcome. I knew no one would hurt you like last time, I wasn’t worried about that, but I hated to think of you having to face those horrible memories on your own.”

“I wasn’t on my own,” Blaine replies. “Tina was there. And Sam.” He’s sounding happier just talking about them, which makes Kurt smile. The last thing he wants is for Blaine to feel alone. “And Sam and I - there’s a thing going on with the Warblers, so we were busy with that. Once I got there, I wasn’t thinking about the other time at all.”

“What’s happening with the Warblers?” Kurt asks.

“I’m not sure yet,” Blaine says. “It’s a long story, but Sam figured out that the Warblers are taking performance enhancing drugs, and Trent’s turned on them, so Finn’s going to challenge their win.”

“Wow.” Kurt stops under the dingy green awning that marks the door to the stairs to the yoga studio and switches hands on the phone again so that he can wrap his arm around himself and tuck his fingers under his bicep. It’s really his legs that are feeling the worst of the weather, exposed beneath the warm layer of his coat and only protected by the soft fabric of his navy winter yoga pants, but if he goes inside he’s going to have to end the call, so he’s going to have to be cold if he wants to talk to Blaine. He can wait a little while longer. “A show choir doping scandal. And I thought I’d heard everything.”

“I know. Sam’s been amazing putting together the clues,” Blaine says with a light little laugh.

“Well, keep me in the loop. It would be great for New Directions to be able to keep competing, but if nothing else I should know what to look for in my classmates. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were happening here, too.”

“Exceptional dance abilities and unexpected bouts of anger over small things are the two most obvious signs according to Sam,” Blaine says.

“Blaine, I’m at one of the top performing arts schools in the country. That describes _everyone_ here,” Kurt tells him, though he thinks of Adam with his sparkling eyes, light-hearted choir, and direct friendliness toward him and thinks with a flutter in his chest that not everyone at NYADA is a cutthroat performer first and a person second.

Blaine laughs again, and Kurt’s heart flutters once more. He can’t help it; he loves it when Blaine is happy. Blaine is made to be happy, all smiles and bouncing energy, warmth in his eyes and in his smile.

Kurt can’t think about that. They’re not together. They’re friends.

He makes himself stop picturing Blaine’s love-softened face, takes a breath, and nods at Delia as she brushes past him into the building. He needed to check that his friend was okay after having a night that would bring back painful and scarring memories; he doesn’t need to get lost in the sound of his laughter. Friends, friends, they’re friends. He should save his fluttering for someone who could be far more.

“I’m here,” he says, not having to fake the shiver in his voice, “so I should really go in before I freeze out here like a statue and am stuck in this spot until the spring thaw.”

“I’m sure you’d be a very chic statue,” Blaine tells him. “They’d be happy to have you adorning their sidewalk.”

“I’m dressed for my class,” Kurt scoffs. “No one is chic in yoga pants.”

“Well, then you’d better go inside,” Blaine says, a smile evident in his voice. “There’s no point if you’re not going to be a fashion icon.”

“Exactly,” Kurt says, but he finds he can’t quite say goodbye. It’s so good to be connected with Blaine that it’s hard to let it go. Kurt doesn’t take it for granted, and he doesn’t have so many friends that he doesn’t feel it strongly. It’s silly, though, because it’s not like he can’t just pick up the phone and call Blaine or text him again later. It’s that easy. It’s what friends do, after all. Heartened by that thought, he takes a deep breath, his lungs protesting the icy sharpness of the winter air. “Okay. Have a good day.”

“You, too,” Blaine says, a little subdued. “And Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For checking on me. For worrying.”

Kurt’s smile goes sad, because it’s strange to be thanked for something that used to be and should be a given, but all he says is, “You’re welcome. I’m glad you were okay.”

“Thanks. Have fun at yoga. Bye,” Blaine says, and then he’s gone.

Kurt doesn’t even tuck his phone away, just flings open the glass door and hurries into the building, his shoulders hunched against the cold that still has him in its clutches despite him being in a heated staircase.

A few minutes later, after he’s climbed the stairs to wait outside the occupied studio and is leaning as close to the battered, hissing radiator in the hallway as he can manage without touching it, he’s unthawed enough to want to look at his phone again. There’s a text from Rachel about him picking him regular milk for Brody on his way home and another one from Blaine with what he says is a link to before and after pictures of the Warblers as compiled by Sam.

Kurt manages not to send a snarky reply to Rachel about providing for her own house guests and decides to wait to pull up the page from Blaine when he gets home where he’ll have a bigger screen, but Blaine’s text still makes him smile. It’s such a normal thing to be talking about show choir intrigue with him.

It’s a balm to Kurt’s heart that they can just text now, that it doesn’t hurt to see Blaine’s name pop up on his phone anymore, that it doesn’t have to be stilted and strange for them to talk on the phone for a few minutes or longer. He’d missed Blaine with aching desperation when they were out of contact when they’d first broken up; that he is so happy now that they’re able to communicate makes it clear that it was the right decision for him to be talking, even if the path he has to walk with him isn’t always simple.

Feeling good about his choices, Kurt flips through apps on his phone as he waits for class to start. He’s not in the mood to play a game, and if he looks at the weather the number on the screen is only going to depress him.

So he thumbs open his contacts and finds himself scrolling pensively down the list of names of friends new and old. There are all of New Directions, of course, even if he never has any reason to contact Quinn, but also more people from Vogue.com than he realized he’d collected, and now there are a smattering of new names from NYADA, too: people from his classes, from the clubs he’s considering, and Adam.

Kurt pauses over Adam’s name with a fierce little smile. He got Adam’s number. He asked him out, and Adam said yes, just like that. Just like it’s that easy. Dating has never been anything close to easy for Kurt, but now, here, it is.

Of course, he still has to call Adam to make it happen, but one thing at a time. He asked a cute boy - a man! - out, and there was no hemming and hawing about screwing things up or, god, a reminder about being straight. There was no revulsion or even an awkward pause. There was just a yes.

A yes!

Kurt wishes he could talk to Blaine about it as his best friend and the person who understands best about where he came from, about how incredible and almost unbelievable it is to be somewhere where his dreams for the future about love can come true. He’s finally in New York. He’s finally somewhere where he isn’t odd for being gay, where it’s not a big deal. He’s just a normal person, not set apart, like he and Blaine had talked about in awe in Ohio. He wishes he could share with him how amazing it feels to be able to be free with his interest and find someone interested in return, just like he’s seen his straight friends do for years.

But even as the thought forms in his head Kurt realizes with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Blaine’s never had the same problems he has finding interested guys in Ohio. There were Jeremiah, Sebastian, and Eli, after all, and Kurt after Blaine finally found him attractive. Blaine probably wouldn’t be so impressed by the basic idea of asking a guy out. He’d asked and been asked more than once. His experience was so different, so much less isolated than Kurt’s was.

With a melancholy sigh, Kurt tucks his phone away and straightens up from where he’s huddled by the radiator when the studio doors open and the previous class pours out. He stretches up on his toes to try to loosen up his cold-stiffened muscles. It doesn’t matter that Blaine wouldn’t understand Kurt’s wonder; Kurt will get past it soon enough and catch up to everyone else. That’s why he’s here. That’s why he’s going to keep pushing forward.

And maybe with some more time between them, he hopes, it won’t be so awkward for him to talk about all of his life with Blaine. He doesn’t want to have to hide things. At least it’s not like anything’s going on with Adam besides some very promising smiling, so there’s nothing really to tell yet, no reason to feel guilty; Kurt will have to call him first to get there. Or maybe text. He wonders if he should start with a text...

No, if he’s going to do this, he wants to do it right. He should just call and make an actual date, with a time and a place and a perfect yet effortless outfit.

Maybe he’ll call later, Kurt thinks while shouldering his way into the room and finding a spot for his mat well away from the drafty windows. This afternoon or tomorrow. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, too naive, but he also doesn’t want to play games. He already got the yes. All he needs to do is reach out and make plans.

It’s just... difficult to find the courage to click on Adam’s name and make the call. It sends his heart into his throat, not just with excitement but also with some measure of trepidation, because he’s never had a simple date with a guy he barely knows, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.

After falling in love with Blaine, he’d never thought he would have the opportunity to take this kind of leap. He never thought he’d have to.

It feels wonderful and exceptionally weird all at once to think of making that call to Adam. It feels huge.

But it’s gotten so much easier to talk to Blaine again when it had once felt impossible, he thinks as he sinks down to the floor to start stretching, and it now feels so right, so maybe it will become natural to call other boys, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I am spoiler-free! Please don't spoil me! Thanks! :)


End file.
